In my childhood my family would take me on trips to Maine. We would camp out, go fishing; basically absorb the earth before we had to go back to New York City. My favorite moments of the trips and the only moments that I now remember with clarity were when my Uncle Ricky would sit us around the campfire and tell us ghost stories. "There was a night," he would gasp, "when nothing went right." "There was a night when all that was right died." The fact that Uncle Ricky had emphysema made these stories even scarier. "The night I'm talking about," he wisped, "the skeletons took over the ships." At this point in the story I can almost guarantee that one of my five siblings had already wet their pants in ear. "The skeletons drove these ships into the jagged Maine coast taking revenge on the kind sailors of Maine. Even to this day you can still hear their cries wailing off the coast of Maine."
Of course this is a somewhat abridged version of the story, but you can now understand the spookiness quality that Maine holds for me. So I pick up the latest album from Cerberus Shoal, a band that hails from Maine, and what do I see staring at me? It's like my late Uncle Ricky has gone into graphic arts, as pictures of skeletons and old ships combat for space on the CD cover. I return to my house and climb under the covers and hope the skeletons won't come for me.
The sound of a toy piano and a horn that seems to be unsure of itself usher in Cerberus Shoal's latest album, Crash My Moon Yacht. The album, which was recorded at the same time as Homb initially makes you wonder if you might be lost in a children's nursery. This is obviously not the same Cerberus Shoal who released their brilliant, post-hardcore, self-titled album in 1995 and it's not even the same Cerberus Shoal who released the somber, spacey, And Farewell to Hightide in 1996. The reason for Cerberus Shoal's departure from their previous sounds comes from their ever-changing lineup. Homb, Crash My Moon Yacht, and the soon to be released Mr. Boy Dog were all recorded when the group fused with Tarpigh, a Portland, Maine band that brought along its eastern music influences.
The thought that you might be listing to some children create racket quickly resolves when track two, "Breathing Machines," arrives. At first, the bass drum pounds with your heart, recalling the beginning of their previous album, Homb, but soon distorted bass and wah guitar kicks out one of Cerberus Shoal's most dynamic pieces ever. The songs following "Breathing Machines" mix eastern musical styles with instrumental avant rock until the final two tracks. What a surprise, and a pleasant one at that, when there are vocals on "Yes Sir, No Sir" and "Asphodel". The vocals add a new vibrant quality to the music. On "Yes Sir, No Sir", the vocals add a pop sensibility that I never would've expected Cerberus Shoal to exhibit.
The unfortunate comparison to Godspeed You Black Emperor! is one that has hounded Cerberus Shoal. Crash My Moon Yacht exhibits such originality that many of those comparisons should fall to the wayside. The textures that Cerberus Shoal creates in their music are much more complex and far reaching then much of G.Y.B.E.! material. Now with the addition of vocals for the first time since And Farewell to Hightide, Cerberus Shoal add another dimension to their repertoire.
Once again, Cerberus Shoal has made a magnificent album that too many people will pass over. Is it because they are from Maine? Is it because they continually redefine their sound? Whatever the reason is, do yourself a favor and try something new: give this original, ever-changing band a chance.
1. Changabang I
2. Breathing Machines
3. Elle Besh
4. Changabang II
5. Long Winded
6. Changabang III
7. Yes Sir, No Sir
8. Asphodel
More about: Cerberus Shoal
